


You Love Satan But You Don't Know Her

by trashcangimmick



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal, Choking, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Endgame Lesbians, F/F, F/M, Group Sex, Medium Burn, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Strip Poker, Tsundere Nea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/pseuds/trashcangimmick
Summary: Nea is kind of horrible. Meg is kind of into it.
Relationships: David King/Meg Thomas, Jake Park/Meg Thomas/Ace Visconti, Meg Thomas/Ace Visconti, Nea Karlsson/Meg Thomas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sure, there are plenty of other things I should be doing. But have this.

Nea is fucking annoying.

At first Meg was excited when a new figure strolled out of the foggy forest. A break from the monotony of sitting by the campfire waiting for fresh torment. Something new. Something invigorating. A striking girl with sharp features, a sharp voice, and a sharp fashion sense.

But it quickly became apparent that Nea wasn’t much to get worked up over. She’s haughty. Egotistical. Such a tryhard. Nea only cares about winning and showing off. In a trial she’s either crouching around the map doing gens like a demon at the expense of any altruism, or clicking a flashlight in the killer’s face and taunting them while running around the hook someone else is dying on. She waits at the exit gates to teabag the killer twelve times out of ten, which just makes the next trial all the more unpleasant. 

Nea always survives, of course. On more than one occasion she’s brought a map and waited for her last teammate to die on the hook just to escape through the hatch. At the campfire afterwards, she’s always smug. 

“If you want to live, perhaps you should play better and not rely on me to save you.”

It’s infuriating. More so than Claudette hiding in a corner with her bandages, not doing generators. Or well, it’s a different kind of infuriating. Interpersonal tensions kinda run high when you’re living in a hellish groundhog day. Meg used to pride herself on a positive attitude and her ability to overcome any obstacle. But death here is meaningless and escape is only ever temporary. So the little things get to her. 

Something about fiery redheads and their temper. She used to channel all that aggressive energy into running. But when she’s always sprinting for her life, she rarely does it for fun anymore. 

She doesn’t really have an outlet for the reckless energy constantly pulsing through her when she’s not in a trial. The problem only gets worse the longer she’s here.

***

Time has mostly lost meaning. There are breaks between trials. Long ones sometimes, now that there’s more than four of them. Meg doesn’t feel hunger, or thirst, or the need for sleep. The entity provides fresh clothes and survival items. They each have their own little chest a small distance from the fire. There’s a river not too far into the forest where they wash the mud and blood away. 

Modesty is also out the window for most of them. Once you’ve seen someone’s guts, there’s not much left to be shy about.

Today… or well, not day. It’s never daytime. But at the moment, Meg and David are taking a bath. They’re both in the river, ass naked. David ain’t bad to look at. He’s just a big scarred hunk of rugged muscle. He hasn’t been here very long, but Meg’s been eyeing him plenty. One human need the Entity didn’t take away was the urge to fuck. 

Meg has already experienced the unfortunate lapse in judgement that was banging Ace Visconti. It wasn’t  _ bad _ . The physical part. The dirty talk was nonstop. Even if it was mostly in spanish, it still wrecked Meg’s focus and she barely got off. It was hard enough not thinking about how the guy’s probably old enough to be her dad. He’s been handsy ever since, but she’s made a point not to be alone with him until she’s desperate again.

Claudette is most likely a virgin and has never picked up on the vibes. Jake is a brick wall. Laurie is too young. Feng is… maybe an option. After she’s been here longer and stopped worrying about straight, or gay, or bi. A warm body is a warm body. For now, Feng seems pretty tunneled on Dwight. Always trying to talk to him about nerd shit. Dwight is oblivious. Just like he’s oblivious to the lecherous way David stares at him. 

Once Meg and Dwight almost fucked. It got to hands down pants before Claudette stumbled across them and ruined the moment. In retrospect, Meg’s kinda grateful for it. 

“So.” Meg splashes some water in David’s direction. They’re sitting on smooth rocks in the middle of the water. Meg’s nipples are hard from the cold. “Think you can teach me some boxing moves?”

“Well that depends.” David laughs. “You wanna know ‘em to try an’ slug a killer? Cos that don’t work out so well. Believe me I’ve tried it.”

“Honestly? Maybe I just wanna punch Nea in the face.” Meg grimaces. She gathers her hair and squeezes it to wring some of the water out. 

“Got a grudge there, Red?”

“Shes fucking unbearable. Last match at Gas Heaven I got downed trying to rescue her out of the basement and she left me there despite it being her first hook.”

“What cunt.” David snorts. “Nasty with a toolbox, though.”

“I’m gonna stop trying to help her. I swear. I’d rather be down a teammate than deal with her bullshit.”

“Next trial we’re all in, we’ll leave her on the hook and see how she likes it, eh?” David winks. Then he stands up. He holds out a hand to Meg. “C’mon. I’ll see what I can show ya.”

Meg accepts. The physical contact sends a zing down her spine. Someone touching her that's not a hulking monster has her skin tingling.

She licks her lips. They’re still holding hands. She glances down, not trying to hide it. David’s pretty hung. Not making excuses about the cold. Meg takes a step closer to him, squeezing her tits together between her arms. The edge of David’s mouth quirks up.

“Well, awlright then.”

Meg guides his hand downwards, rests it on her ass. He squeezes, chuckling. He grabs one of her tits. Rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Meg sighs, the heat already pooling between her legs. She’s wet from more than the water. 

They end up on the river bank. David leaning against a tree with Meg in his lap. He doesn’t kiss her and that’s just fine. His cock is thick. His thumb feels great rubbing across her clit. Meg likes to be on top. She likes to grab broad shoulders, dig her nails in, and ride for all she’s worth. Pent up horniness at the steering wheel, Meg is drenched, slapping down on David’s dick with a wet squelch every time she moves. He’s breathing rough, holding onto her ass, staring at her bouncing tits. 

He’s not too vocal and Meg’s grateful. She closes her eyes and just feels him, stretching her open, hitting the hot spots. She likes it to hurt a little. Fast, deep, and hard. She’s fucking herself like a desperate slut. Her thighs tense. Her breath catches. Her pussy twitches, squeezing down around David’s dick as she shudders through an orgasm.

“Fuck.” David groans.

“Don’t come yet. I’ll slap you.” Meg gasps, breath ragged. She picks up right where she left off. The added slick of her release making the wet noises even louder. 

David keeps at her clit, even though it’s sensitive now. Meg’s drunk on the overstimulation. Her thighs are burning in the good way. She’s bouncing in David’s lap as fast as she can. 

“Choke me.”

David laughs, but obliges. He wraps a thick hand around her neck and squeezes. Meg gushes when she comes. The lightheaded anxiety only making everything more intense. She’s full of static electricity. Her vision starts to go a little splotchy before David lets go.

“It’s my turn, Luv.” He grins.

Then he grabs her hips and lifts her up like she weighs nothing. He sets her down on her hands and knees and fucks into her like an animal. Meg moans, bracing herself on the soft dirt as best she can. David gives it good. Deep like she wants it.

She whines when he smacks her ass. She’s close again. He grabs a fistful of her hair and forces her to crane her head back. 

“Ready for the big finish, Pet? Gonna fill ya up to the brim.”

“Ugh, no. Gross. Pull out.”

“Nah. Ain’t like yer gettin’ knocked up in this place.”

Meg wants to know what happens if she tries to crawl away. So she does. David gets an iron grasp on her hips and drags her back. He rubs her clit with three fingers, snarling at her. “I know you got a‘nother one in ya. Let’s feel it.”

It might be a little shameful the way Meg folds. She squeezes around him tight, her whole body shaking. She squirts again, drenching his cock. She can feel it dribbling down her thighs. David curses. A few more rough thrusts and he goes still.

Meg squirms away as soon as he lets her. She gets back in the water to rinse off the sweat and other bodily fluids. David sits on the side of the water, catching his breath. He’s still half hard.

“What I wouldn’t give for a dart.” David sighs, scrubbing a hand across the shaved sides of his scalp.

“What I wouldn’t give for a fucking beer.”

“D’you think Claude could brew us sommet with all those plants she’s got?”

“Worth a shot.”

***

Of course, Claudette hasn’t the first idea how to brew anything. She says it would be dangerous to try. Ace says something about toilet wine he had in a mexican prison and after that they kinda all just drop it. Meg’s not a hundred percent clear on what Ace did before he wound up here. All she really knows is he’s a card shark with a slick smile.

Some people talk about their backstories. Some people don’t. None of it really matters. They’re all stuck here now. As far as any of them know, this will go on forever.

Meg is walking slowly through the corn stalks on the farm. Looking over her shoulder every now and then. She hasn’t seen the trapper in a while, which makes her nervous. He’s probably setting up something nasty. 

He’s not as scary to her as some of the other killers. He’s been there since the beginning and at this point he’s almost a familiar comfort. With him, she knows what to expect. Look where you’re fucking stepping. Like she knows that with the hillbilly she has to dodge between trees, and with the wraith she has to avoid places he can box her in. The newer killers are more frightening. She hates the nurse most of all. It doesn’t matter how fast she runs because the bitch can teleport. 

Meg makes it to the dilapidated farm house and hears a generator chugging upstairs. She ascends to the second floor deck, choosing her steps carefully. Nea is there with a toolbox. They can never talk in the trials. The entity steals their voices, leaving nothing but the ability to scream in pain. Nea acknowledges her by letting go of the generator and crouching deeper a few times. Teabagging as usual.

Meg ignores it, kneeling to fiddle with the wires.

Something odd happens. Nea lets go again. She crowds in around Meg and grabs hold of her hands. She guides them, firm but gentle, showing Meg a configuration of the wires and gears she’s never seen. 

It’s not like Meg has any experience as a mechanic. She’s learned through trial and error. Nea is almost artful, sparking wires and turning cogs. She’s certain and precise. Nea lets go of Meg’s hands after another piston on the generator starts pumping. She returns to her side. Meg’s heart is thudding and she’s sweating. The killer is still nowhere to be seen or heard. 

There’s a scream far across the fields. The sickening snap of a trap. Nea points, signaling for Meg to go. Of course. Meg sighs, climbs through the window and drops through a hole in the floor to start running. 

She has a feeling she’s not going to make it out this time. Perhaps it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy of a negative mindset. She dies in the basement, struggling next to Claudette and Jake. 

Nea escapes through the hatch. 

***

“How do you know about generators?” Meg asks a few trials later. All the girls are sitting out today. Laurie and Feng are still in the river. Claudette is probably off somewhere picking flowers to make offerings. Meg’s hair is dripping dry by the fire. Nea just changed clothes, her face is still streaked with dirt and blood. 

She’s wearing a tight purple tank top with faded pink and black pinstripe pants. She seems to like bright clothes, even if (or maybe because) it makes her easier to spot. All the clothes that appear in Meg’s chest are outfits she owned before. It’s possible the Entity is pulling things from her memories. Probably best not to think about it too hard. 

“I’ve fixed them before.” Nea shrugs. “My father had a cabin in the woods when I was small. It was powered by a generator. He teach me.”

Nea’s English isn’t perfect, but it’s very good. She mispronounces things occasionally. Jake will always be  _ Yake. _ Just like the G at the end of Feng and Meg’s name turns mostly silent. 

Meg doesn’t actually know a lot about Nea except that she’s presumably from some scandanavian country and she showed up around the same time the nurse did. Nea isn’t quite as silent as Jake, but when she talks it’s to talk shit. Not to offer up any personal information.

“That’s cool.” Meg stares into the crackling flames for a moment. “Where did you live?”

“Hjo. Sweden.” Nea rubs the side of her nose. “Before my parents drag me to stupid America. You’re American.”

“Yeah.”

“Your country is bullshit.”

“Fair.” Meg snorts. “I’m from Colorado. Thanks for asking.”

“I’ve only seen Minnesoa. I was saving to go back to Stockholm before…” Nea waves her hand nebulously. 

Yeah. Meg gets it. Though if she ever makes it out, she doesn’t have a lot to go back to. In all likelihood, her mother is gone at this point. She’s lost out on any scholarships. She doesn’t know what she’d do with her life.

“I’ve never been to Minnesota. Never been much of anywhere, really.”

“You miss nothing.” Nea laughs.

It seems to be a genuine laugh. Not the usual sardonic snort Nea offers to any criticism or pleas for better team sportsmanship. 

“How do you walk so fast when you’re like, hunched over?” Meg ventures. It’s the first conversation they’ve really had that didn’t border on an argument.

“Practice hiding from police.” Nea crosses her arms. Her gaze is steady. She’s sizing Meg up for something. Exactly what isn’t clear.

“So you were like an Ace level criminal or… ?”

“I’m an artist. Just on walls instead of canvas. The authorities do not enjoy this.”

“Ah. A tagger.” Meg smiles. She knew a few of those in her hometown. The burnout skaters who stayed out past curfew and made a hobby of marking up public and private property.

Of course, Meg’s not exactly a stranger to vandalism.

She digs into the pocket of her hoodie and produces a small horseshoe of black rubber tread. She holds up her little trophy for inspection.

“I cut this from the tire of a cop car once.”

Nea cocks her head. “What a naughty girl.” Nea’s tone is low, almost sandpapery. Like there might be a deeper connotation if Meg looked for it.

The abrupt rush of blood downwards is a bit embarrassing. Meg’s clit throbs. She hasn’t been with another girl since she got trapped here. And not for a year or two before that. Kinda slim pickings in Fort Collins. She’d managed to make it with a few college girls from other states. Once with a cousin’s friend when she was visiting in Durango. 

She prefers girls. Strongly. Like she soaks her panties when the Huntress picks her up and slings her over a bulky shoulder. She’s flicked the bean thinking about those muscular arms and big tits and how those thighs could probably crush a skull. 

Meg smiles. She’s not exactly sure what to say. But before she can get herself together she hears the buzzer of an exit gate opening. David and Jake stagger out, arms around each other, bleeding from their shoulders and stomachs. 

Jake is pretty bad off. Looks like he was just picked up from dying.

"Oi!" David yells. "Little help over here?"

Meg sighs. She stands up and walks over. She wraps her arm around Jake's back supporting his strong shoulder and helps him hobble towards the campfire. David can limp on his own, but he's not much help. Meg is supporting most of Jake's weight.

As soon as she lets him slump down on a log beside the fire, the wounds start to mend. He breathes easier. The blood is still fresh on his clothes, but his skin is intact. He nods a silent thanks. David sits down beside him, grimacing.

"That zombie witch is a right cunt."

Nea is gone. Meg isn't sure where she went. Must have wandered off as soon as the others appeared. So she slumps down on the ground near David and Jake and stares at the crackling flames. They never flicker out. Never require more fuel. Maybe the fire feeds on their suffering. When David's injuries have disappeared, he slides closer to her. He sits on the very edge of the log, leg pressing against her arm.

"So. Fancy a swim?"

Meg toys with her wet hair, eyebrow raised. "I think Laurie and Feng are still down there."

"I know a spot a ways up the river. Pretty deep." His tounge darts over his lower lip.

Fuck it. 

"OK. Sure."


	2. Chapter 2

Lerry's memorial institute is hellish. Most of the game boards they're sent to are creepy, but Lerry's actually looks like it's out of a horror movie. Abandoned mental hospital with IV bags hanging off the hooks and ruined stretchers everywhere. The walls are smeared with blood, and probably shit. It stinks. Worst of all is the treatment theater, with lots of buzzing electric contraptions. There's always a generator in there. It's near the center of the map, so it's an important gen to fix. 

Meg hates it.

She spawned in with Dwight, near the exit gate. They managed to get a generator about halfway finished before they heard the nurse scream and Meg sprinted off. It's really not her day. Her least favorite killer in her least favorite place. She hasn't seen any of her teammates since she left Dwight behind. She feels a little guilty. She heard him scream soon after she ran. She tried to go back for him, but someone else got to him first.

Meg is in a dark hallway, footsteps echoing on the concrete. She hears the faint electrical buzzing. She's torn between turning around and doing what she knows will be best for the team. She hasn't seen the Nurse in a while. She draws closer and hears the generator already chugging away. 

Meg walks in quickly and kneels next to the generator. Nea doesn't acknowledge her presence, and just keeps working. Perhaps their little moment on the rotten fields was a fluke. Meg shakes it off. She focuses on the wires and cogs, manipulating them the way Nea showed her. 

The telltale shriek is the only warning they get. The nurse appears right beside them. Meg lets go of the generator and it explodes. The nurse swings her bone saw and catches Meg in the shoulder. It's incredibly painful. There's blood streaming down Meg's arm. 

Then there's a hand around her wrist. Not a cold one. Not the Nurse's. It's warm. Lightly calloused. The fingers are long but slender. Nea is pulling Meg away towards the staircase. Meg gets the picture. She's too tired to sprint, but she follows. 

The nurse is too slow to catch them just by chasing them. She screams again, phasing through walls. At the last second, Nea jerks Meg into a corner. She crouches and tugs Meg down with her. Meg can't entirely silence her groans of pain. She focuses on breathing. Her heart is hammering in her ears. She's bleeding heavily, starting to feel a bit faint. The nurse can't seem to find them. She's circling the staircase, dropping back down, her red stain illuminating the ground just nearby the corner, but not reaching it.

After a minute, she gives up. The scream echoes and Meg's heart rate returns to normal.

Nea pulls a pack of bandages out of her first aid kit and starts to wrap Meg's arm. She's kind of rough about it. But she pulls the bandages tight. She staunches the bleeding. Her expression is unreadable. She motions for Meg to follow her. The drop down to the lower floor and begin work on the generator once again. They finish it quickly. 

For the rest of the trial, Meg follows Nea. It's mind-bending to watch. Nea seems to know every hiding place in the building. She leads Meg into secret corners. She crouches under stretchers. She walks silently and quickly. The nurse doesn't find them again. They do two more generators together. The exit gates power up.

Nea points to one gate and runs towards the other. Meg powers the gate up until it's almost finished, then tucks herself into a corner. Dwight, bloody, with the nurse in hot pursuit appears just moments later. Meg sprints to the lever and slams it down. She gets between the nurse and dwight right as the nurse swings. They both stumble past the barrier that the killer can't follow through. 

"Who else is in there? I saw Feng going for the other exit." Dwight is wobbly. Meg helps support him as they stagger towards the fire and its strange healing powers.

"Nea."

"Huh. No wonder the generators went so fast." Dwight snorts. 

There's nobody else beside the flickering flames and Meg and Dwight sit down. The residual ache fades from Meg's shoulder. The burning in her legs from all the running melts away. She's still covered in blood and sweat. Her hands are stained with black grease. There's also a dark black handprint around her wrist from where Nea grabbed her. Meg can't help but stare at it.

Nea appears a few minutes later, completely unharmed. She strides towards the fire and sits down, arms folded.

"Where's Feng?" The anxiety edges into Dwight's voice. 

"She didn't make it." Nea shrugs. "Got hooked all the way on the other side of the building."

Dwight purses her lips. Meg shakes her head. She stands and walks away towards the forest pointedly. She has to get the grease off her. 

Of course, Nea is still an asshole.

***

"I used to paint at the Asylum." Nea offers unprompted. 

Meg went to gather twigs and flowers for offerings at Claudette's behest. She was surprised when Nea followed her. It's not like Nea's really helping. She's just kind of. There.

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes. I think that is why I am here. The nurse. I saw her the day I got stuck."

"That must have sucked."

"Yes. Quite unpleasant." Nea kicks a rock with the rubber sole of her chucks. "I wish my art were still there. In that place."

Meg ponders that for a moment. She's often wondered how it works. If they're running around weird copies of reality or if they're going to physical places. 

Just like she wonders if she's really her anymore. Or if she's just a copy of herself strung together by the weird spider god that has decided to torment them for reasons unknown. Sure, Meg hasn't always been a perfect little peach. She didn't really believe in hell, but she also didn't think she'd done something to merit being sent there. Who knows. 

She remembers dimly stepping on a bear trap, on her run in the woods that seems like it's another lifetime away. She remembers the fog rolling in. She remembers the terror of seeing that jagged grin carved into a blood-splattered white mask. When she's feeling morbid, she thinks about how that is probably when she died. She thinks she hasn't been alive since she came to this place. 

There's no way to know for sure.

"I wonder if Claude could make you some paint." Meg picks another dull yellow flower and stuffs it into the burlap sack Claudette gave her.

"Perhaps." Nea shrugs. "I do not think she likes me."

"Nobody likes you."

Nea snorts at that. 

It's objectively true. Even Dwight, who wants everybody's approval, keeps Nea at arm's length. That's what happens when you don't have any sense of altruism. You can only escape through the hatch so many times before everyone else starts to resent you.

"Most of my life, people do not like me. I don't care. I will not change to please someone else."

"Must be lonely."

"Sometimes." Nea draws a bit closer, to the flower patch Meg is kneeling in.

Nea crouches down and gently picks a flower. Instead of placing it in the sack, she reaches out and tucks it behind Meg's ear. Meg is stunned. Frozen. She and Nea are just staring at each other.

Then Nea stands up and abruptly walks away, leaving Meg blinking in confusion. Meg should follow her. Pin her to a tree. Kiss that stupid smirk off her face. But by the time she gets her legs to work, Nea is already gone.

***

Meg isn't particularly close with the other girls. She's not particularly close with anybody. She, Dwight and Claudette are friends. They were here before anyone else. But it's not like she's gonna sit down and Talk To Them about the weirdness with Nea. It would make things even more awkward than they already are. Jake isn’t an option, for obvious reasons. Ace is just incurably horny for her, and would interpret any attention as an invitation. 

That leaves David.

It’s unideal to say the least. But during some down time, he and Meg wander off together. They find a nice smooth rock that Meg lies down on after stripping off her jersey and leggings. She shoves David’s head between her thighs and he happily drags his tongue between her slick folds of skin. He’s not the best, but he’s not the worst. His tongue feels good on her clit. He’s not too rough. 

Meg closes her eyes and ignores the drag of stubble. Instead she thinks about delicate fingers pressing into her. Soft lips sliding over her flesh.

Nea smiling up at her, cocky as all shit. 

That’s what pushes her over the edge. It makes her come, shaking, breath stolen away. David’s a little impatient after that. He doesn’t bother undressing. He just unzips his jeans and climbs on. She wraps her legs around him and spaces out, letting him do the work. He fucks her fast and deep. It lasts long enough to get her off again. 

He slumps down beside her to catch his breath. Meg stretches. She can feel his come trickling out of her.

“I think Nea might be into me.” She says offhanded, stroking a hand down her body. Her skin’s still oversensitized. She brushes a thumb across her nipple and gasps.

“Yeah?” David rolls closer, voice deep. “That’s fuckin’ sexy. Ya think she’d get frisky with us?”

“Who said anything about  _ us _ .” Meg wrinkles her nose.

“Aw, c’mon. You wouldn’t at least let me watch?”

“No. Gross.”

“Yer no fun.” He slaps her on the thigh.

“She like. Has helped me during trials and is kinda following me around. And I don’t know if I’m imagining it. She’s… hot though.”

“I could see it. In the dyke kinda way I s’pose.”

Yeah. She’s really, really hot. Meg has always been a sucker for androgyny and she’s a disaster. She's still horny. She slips a hand down between her legs and plays with herself. Rubbing her clit rough, still slick with David's jizz. He watches. Paws at her tits. Even bites her neck a little.

"It'd be fun to get someone else in with us though, yeah?"

"I'm not fucking Dwight." Meg sounds breathy. She can't help it.

"Who said anything about him?" David's just affronted enough that it's clear she's hit a nerve.

"Come on, man. It's obvious."

"Fuck off. I meant another girl."

"Yeah. Sure."

Meg isn't sure who else would agree to it. The idea of inviting Claudette to a threeway is almost ridiculous enough that she wants to do it for the joke. But that's gonna be on David if he wants it. 

"Ace has a nice cock." Meg slips a finger into herself. "If you gag him, he's a good fuck."

"I'm not a fuckin' queer."

"Whatever."

Meg rubs her clit with her other hand as she fucks herself. She comes imagining Nea's hands. It's better than David's dick.

***

Ace brings something really interesting out of a trial at the Storehouse. It's a ceramic jug full of clear liquid that smells like rubbing alcohol.

"Moonshine!" Ace is obviously quite pleased with himself.

Everyone else is pleased with him too.

It's a rowdy evening by the fire. Claudette has never been drunk before. She barely gulps down a few sips of the corn liquor, spluttering at the burn. Her cheeks flush and she can't stop giggling. She's adorable with her glasses askew and a few of her shirt buttons undone. 

David and Ace get into a contest, of course, which they drag Dwight and Jake into. They might as well be actually measuring their dicks the way they take turns with long pulls off the jug, swallowing down without coughing. Or well. David, Ace and Jake do. Dwight is out after three rounds. He goes off to the woods, presumably to throw up. After another few rounds, David folds and follows him.

Ace ends up surrendering, because Jake can apparently hold his liquor like a motherfucker. 

The girls are more sensible about it. Laurie and Feng take delicate sips. Meg probably has more than a little too much, but not enough to make herself nauseous. Just enough to make her loose and bold. Nea's demeanor barely changes, besides her eyes getting a little glassy. 

"So, ladies." Ace smiles, smarmy and slick. "Have you ever played strip poker?"

He pulls a tattered deck of cards from his jacket. Normally, Meg would tell him to go to hell. But also like. The opportunity to see Nea naked is nothing to sneeze at. 

Feng likes games. "I'm in," she grins. 

"How do you play poker?" Claudette's words are a little slurred. It's adorable.

"Don't worry, renita. I’ll teach you. We'll do a practice round first."

"What the hell." Meg shrugs. "Let's do it. Laurie, you need to leave, though. It's only a matter of time before this weirdo gets his dick out."

"Yeah." Laurie nods, standing up. "Uh. Bye."

Nea doesn't say whether or not she wants to. But she also doesn't leave. Ace deals her in. Like he deals Jake in.

They play once practice round for Claudette, who still doesn't really seem to grasp the rules. Not like it matters. The point is to strip down, and whatever happens after that happens.

It turns out, Nea is very good at poker. It probably shouldn't be surprising, considering how few facial expressions she usually shows off. She bets her hat first. Feng does similarly, with her socks. Claudette gets into the spirit of things and takes off her shirt, exposing a plain white bra and a frankly fantastic pair of tits. Meg kinda can't stop staring. Neither can Jake or Ace. They're both pussies who take off their jackets.

When it's Meg's turn, she stands up and strips out of her leggings. She's wearing a black lace thong. Ace wolf whistles. Claudette gasps. 

Things get a bit rowdy after that. It's not long before Claudette and Meg are stripped down to their underwear. Once it came time to take off her shorts, Feng folded and excused herself from the game (or maybe went to go find Dwight). Nea has won several hands and keeps betting other people's clothes. Ace seems to be doing badly on purpose. He's down to nothing but his jeans. Ace isn't the most fit, but he's not that bad to look at. Meg's plenty horny. If Ace is the option tonight, she'll probably take it. 

Jake, unsurprisingly, is also good at cards. So he's still got his shirt and pants. Considering the fact that he almost always has a jacket on, he still seems a little exposed.

Meg drinks more. The next round, she takes off her bra. Her nipples are hard. Her tits bounce a little as she removes the cloth. Ace groans. Meg smiles. Her panties are wet. She glances over towards Nea and is pleased that Nea is also taking it all in.

"You have nice boobs." It's the first thing Jake's said all night besides 'knock', 'call' or 'fold'. It's almost startling.

"Thanks, babe." Meg winks. She takes another sip of booze. It tastes awful. Probably like drinking gasoline or something, but she's warm all over and feels like she could do anything.

Claudette had to take off her bra as well. She has dusky brown nipples. Perfectly shaped grapefruit sized tits. Meg wants to touch them. Get her mouth on them. God she's so horny she can barely see straight.

Now that Feng is gone, Meg is sitting next to Nea. And she knows she's not imagining Nea's sideways glances. 

Meg has a nice body. She knows it. She's muscular, with thick thighs and perky tits. There's never really been a shortage of people who want to touch her. Before she came to this awful place, she tried not to be too much of a slut. But what's the point anymore? She's in so much pain, all the time. She'll take her kicks where she can get them.

"This is quite the game." Ace smiles. He strips off his pants. There's an obvious bulge underneath his boxers. He's got a nice, thick cock. Meg enjoyed being stuffed with it. The sense memory makes her clit throb. She crosses her legs. Squeezes them together.

Jake bets his shirt, displaying his prominent sixpack. Nea bets Meg's bra with a wry smile. And of course, ups the ante with Claudette's bra.

Claudette bites her lip. All she has left are her plain pink cotton bikini-briefs. Meg almost holds her breath, waiting to see what Claudette does.

"Fold." She crosses her arms over her chest. "I uh... I'm cold."

She stands up and walks off, presumably in the direction of her clothing chest. Meg definitely stares at the curve of her ass as she goes.

"And then there were four." Ace raises an eyebrow. He strips out of his boxers and throws them into the pile, fully naked. His uncircumcised dick half hard now. He's not trying to hide it. "All in."

Jake throws his pants in. He wasn’t wearing underwear apparently. He’s got a chub too. He’s cut, the head is a fat, dusky pink. He’s not as thick or long as Ace. But his ball hair is dark black instead of grey and he’s nothing but rock hard muscle so like. Y’know. Trade offs. 

Meg is molten at the core. It's like goddamn Niagara Falls between her legs. She lifts her hips and strips off her thong, tossing it into the pile.

She got her pussy waxed a few days before she got swallowed up by the fog, so that seems to be the state she returns to whenever she's revived. She usually waxes for running, but it has other benefits. She doesn't bother to close her legs. She likes the sensation of Ace and Jake's eyes on her.

"All in." Meg laughs.

They flip their cards. Meg had nothing. Ace had a pair of fours. Jake had three queens. Nea had a straight flush.

She rakes the clothing towards her and stares at the pile.

"Is the game over then?" She grabs her hat and puts it back on.

"I suppose so." Meg grabs for the bottle and takes another drink. "What now?"

"I have some ideas." Ace palms himself. It's crass. They're far beyond subtlety at this point.

Meg's kinda into it. Jake hasn't said anything, but he's still staring at Meg's wet pussy. Obviously interested. Nea... stands up to leave. She takes the whole pile of clothes with her.

Meg wants to follow her. But as soon as Nea's gone, Ace is on her. He's kissing her, grabbing her ass, lifting her up. Then she feels another warm body behind her. A second pair of hands on her hips. She keeps her arms draped around Ace as he slides into her. She moans into his mouth. 

She feels Jake's hardness brush against her ass cheeks. She breaks the kiss.

"Do it." She tilts her head back, resting it on Jake's shoulder. "Fuck my ass."

"We don't have lube." Jake murmurs.

"Just use spit. Who cares. The fire will fix whatever."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He pushes two fingers into her mouth. She sucks on them. Moans around them as Ace fucks into her. It's a little awkward with them all standing, but she doesn't weigh much and he's surprisingly strong. Jake's helping hold her steady. He's also very solid. She's always thought he was hot. Never figured he'd be into it. 

Jake teases his fingers against her asshole. Pushes them inside. Meg's always been a fan of rough anal. She likes to get fucked into oblivion. She likes the soreness afterwards. She might even wander into the woods right after so the sensation doesn't fade too quickly. 

Ace bites at Meg's neck. He's grinding into her, fast and deep, thankfully not talking much. Meg's getting close. She drops a hand to rub at her clit. Then she's squeezing around Ace's dick. Shuddering with the orgasm. 

Jake tugs at the rim of her hole. Opening her up. She hears him spit. Then the head of his cock is pressing against her. He slides in slow. It’s a warm sting. Meg is so worked up, it mostly just feels good. She’s maybe screaming. At least making a lot of noise. 

They have a little trouble finding a rhythm both moving inside her. She’s too lost to do anything about it. She barely registers them talking.

“I think I should lie down.”

“Yeah. Good call.”

They both pull out of her. Meg whines. It’s horrible to be empty. But Jake keeps a hold of her. He lowers them down, sitting on a patch of dry grass, then leaning back, taking her with him. She’s sprawled, back across his chest. He’s taller than her. Tall enough that her head is supported on his shoulder. He lines up and slides back into her. He starts to move. Rolling his hips slow and deep. Meg cries out. Ace is kneeling over them. He slides into her pussy with a wet squelch. He supports himself on one hand and uses the other to play with her nipples. 

Meg is on another planet. The feeling of them both moving inside her is a lot to handle. They can probably feel each other’s cocks through the thin wall of muscle. They’re not perfectly synchronised. That makes it even better. Meg is wailing. Thighs tense and trembling. Jake gets a hand on her clit and she gushes everywhere. 

They don’t let up. Meg’s too out of it to pay attention to Ace’s mumbling. Jake keeps making quiet noises right in her ear. The little grunts and gasps are so sexy. It’s not long before Meg’s pulsing with another orgasm. And another. Jake doesn’t stop touching her. Neither of them stop fucking her. It’s like a rolling wave. All her muscles tense and release. Her abs start to hurt eventually from so much twitching. Her pussy and ass are wrecked. Her clit is almost numb form overstimulation.

Ace comes without warning. He just swears, and groans, and goes still. He stays there for a moment before pulling out and sitting back. 

Jake sits up. He shifts her around so that she’s on her back and he’s on top of her. He spits on his cock again before sliding back into her. She hangs on for the ride as he pounds into her. He’s sweating, panting, still mostly silent. He’s looking at her with a strange intensity that makes her feel naked and exposed in a whole different way. She knows Ace is watching him. She can hear his heavy breathing. They probably look real hot together. 

Jake’s cock feels so good. The burning sting has long since blurred into the mess of sensation. More pain means more pleasure. The harder he fucks her, the closer she is to unthinkable heights. She’s digging her nails into his shoulders. She starts to gush again without even touching her clit. 

“Can I--inside you?” Jake’s voice is low and gruff. Meg’s definitely filing that away in the spank bank.

“Do it,” she breathes.

Jake  _ growls _ as he empties inside her. She feels completely boneless. She lies there in the grass, covered in sweat, spunk and her own slick. Perfectly debauched. She doesn’t really need to sleep, but right now she kind of wants to.

“We will have to thank Mr. Trapper for this wonderful gift next time we see him.” Ace laughs, picking up the bottle and taking a swig.

“Seriously.” Jake grunts. 

He slides out of Meg slowly. He doesn’t lie down next to her. He just sits back on his heels and looks down at where she’s messy and fucked open. Meg’s whole body is relaxed. She feels like she’s floating. It’s easy to forget where she is and the horrors of her existence just for a moment. 

God she’s missed booze.

“Do you need us to carry you to the river?” Ace chuckles.

Meg waves her hand. “Don’t wanna move.”

“Suit yourself.”

Meg will get up in a little bit. Clean up. Put on fresh clothes. Totally.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the google translate Swedish. If you have corrections please give them.

Watches don’t really work, but Meg apparently passed out for a long time. She wakes up covered in a soft red flannel with a shirt bundled under her head as a pillow. The clothes she was wearing before the poker game are folded in a neat pile next to her.

She doesn’t have a hangover since she slept so close to the fire. She’s not sore. The hickies and bite marks didn’t linger. The only evidence of her hedonism is the dried come between her legs.

She rinses off in the river on her own. Nobody else was by the fire. Some people are probably in a trial. Whoever else is probably out gathering offering materials or doing whatever else people get up to in the forest. 

Despite the thorough fucking, Meg is still horny. If anything, it’s probably worse. She could try to get a grip on herself. That would be the smart thing to do. But like. Why should she?

The water makes the jizz on her get slimy before it washes away. She contemplates rubbing one out. But it would be better if she found someone else to get off with. David, Jake, Ace… one of them’s gotta be around somewhere.

She walks back to camp with just a sports bra and shorts on. Maybe she’ll just start wandering around in her underwear all the time. It might distract some of the killers. Like. Most of them are human or human adjacent. Could be worth a shot.

Nea and Claudette are sitting by the fire when Meg returns. Nea is wearing Ace’s blazer and baseball cap like some sort of trophy. The energy is palpably awkward. Claudette offers a little wave.

“Did you have a nice rest?” She’s not making eye contact.

“Yep. That liquor put me out.” Meg flops down.

“It was um. Very strong.”

“Yeah. It was fun to see your wild side though, Claudie.” Meg grins.

Claudette’s going a bit pink. “I um--apologize for my behavior. That was. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“No need to apologize.”

“I was basically naked.” Claudette squeaks. 

Claudette is the only one left with some sense of modesty. She almost always bathes alone. She tends to her own injuries whenever possible, especially when patching them up would necessitate exposing herself.

“So? I got completely naked. It’s whatever.” Meg reaches up to part her hair and start on her braids. “If anything, Nea should be apologizing for not getting into the spirit of strip poker and taking off any clothes.”

“Not my fault I was good at the game.” Nea raises an eyebrow.

Typical. Meg just snorts and rolls her eyes.

“Did you um…” Claudette pauses. “I don’t want to be rude. But did everyone else stay after I left?”

“Nea didn’t.” 

“The game was over.”

“I think you mean  _ phase one _ of the game was over.” 

Nea frowns, just for a moment. Claudette’s cheeks are a full-on dusky pink at this point. Her eyes are very wide.

“Oh. Oh my.” 

“Yeah. I didn’t think Jake was down for that sort of party, but purgatory's full of surprises.”

“Isn’t--isn’t Ace like fifty years old?” Claudette claps a hand over her mouth after saying it. “Oh god. I’m sorry. That was so rude.”

Meg can’t help laughing. “Yeah, babe. He’s a geezer. But a lot of the time older dudes are way better in bed. More experience or whatever.”

“All men are terrible at sex.” Nea says it half under her breath. Meg almost wonders if she imagined it.

But then Nea’s standing up, dusting off the suit jacket, and wandering away. Meg watches her for as long as she’s still visible.

“Is um. I’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about it. We totally don’t have to. But um. Is Jake… good?”

“Oh yeah. He was great. Why you wanna know, Claudie? Does someone have a little crush?”

Claudette couldn’t possibly look more flustered. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but the words seem to die on her lips.

“You should go for it.” Meg nudges her playfully. “I mean, you’ve been hiding that killer body under dumpy clothes for so long, I bet he didn’t realize what a hottie you are. I’m sure he’d be into it.”

“Stop!” Claudette squeaks. “I’m really not--I’m not anything special--”

“Girl, your tits are otherworldly. And that ass?” Meg bites her lip. “I mean. If he’s too stupid to hit it, I’m next in line.”

Claudette doesn’t seem to know how to respond. She’s probably not used to people flirting with her, considering how quiet and mousey she typically is.

“My turn to be rude.” Meg moves a little closer. “Are you a virgin?”

“Um. I um…” 

“It’s OK if you are. I won’t tell anybody.”

“I’ve done uh. Mouth stuff.” Claudette promptly covers her face with her hands. “God.”

“Mouth stuff is honestly better most of the time.” Meg laughs. “I mean, getting fucked is fine and all. I prefer getting eaten out. Don’t love giving blowjobs, but y’know.”

Claudette is saved from further conversation by Dwight’s body slowly lowering from the sky. Rematerializing and being woven together by those horrible spidery legs. He’s deposited right beside the fire, lying on his side.

“Ooof. Sorry, bud.” Meg reaches out to pat him on the shoulder.

Dwight grunts. Being reborn is not a pleasant experience. Meg always feels off for a while afterwards. Her body starts off pretty numb, then it’s a pins and needles type thing as she starts to regain sensation.

  
Maybe thirty seconds later, David is also lowered from the sky. Unlike Dwight, who is still sprawled, David sits up immediately and cracks his neck.

“Trapper’s been painting his bloody traps. So dark you can’t fockin see ‘em.”

“Yikes,” Meg says, because what else is there to say.

On cue, Laurie is lowered from the sky. Feng follows a couple minutes after. They all look pretty rough. There’s not much to be done about it. They sit in silence, staring into the fire. 

A lot of the time, this place really sucks.

***

A chainsaw revs in the distance. Meg stays crouched on the top of the rickety boat, hoping she’s out of sight. The swamp is horrible. It smells awful. Sometimes she slips on the muddy ground and faceplants. 

The only good thing about facing the Hillbilly here is all the stumps. She can weave around them to avoid the chainsaw at least.

So far, she’s only seen Jake. He was rooting through a chest nearby, then disappeared with a toolbox. She’s heard a few distinctly feminine screams from the other side of the map. But whoever was on the hook got rescued pretty quick. Meg’s been focusing on generators.

She hears soft groaning approaching. The planks creak behind her. Nea crouches down beside her, grimacing and bleeding from her side. Meg lets go of the generator immediately. She doesn’t have a lot in the way of medical supplies today. But she’s got butterfly tape and some gauze.

She tugs Nea’s shirt up to expose the injury. Nea lets go of the wound and the blood leaks out. Meg’s thankful she hasn’t gotten her hands too muddy. They don’t get sick here, but there’s still something intrinsically Bad about trying to patch someone up when your hands are covered in god knows what.

Meg sutures the large gash as best she can and tapes the gauze over it. She tries not to get distracted by Nea’s flat, muscular abdomen. Meg maybe lifted the shirt a little higher than necessary to expose the bottom of Nea’s sports bra. It’s neon green. Of course it is. 

She pulls Nea’s shirt back down. Nea nods at her. Squeezes her shoulder. It’s a fleeting touch, but it still makes Meg a little dizzy. They both turn to work on the generator. 

Then Meg’s pulse is thudding in her ears. The generator is so close to finished. Nea’s not running away. So. Meg won’t either.

The sweat starts to prickle on her forehead. She can hear the chainsaw start up. Her hands are shaking. She’s already heard three other generators pop. She hopes to god someone else is working on another one. The light above them clicks on. Meg and Nea sprint off in opposite directions as the Hillbilly’s red stain comes up the stairwell.

Meg is unlucky. 

The chainsaw slices into her and cuts her down immediately. The pain is incredible. At the very least, she’s not cut in half. The strange physics of this world spare her that much. But she’s mangled. Her thighs are ripped open. She feels the tears on her face. The Hillbilly bends down and hoists her over his misshapen shoulder with ease. He drops down through the hole in the deck as Meg starts to struggle. He easily gets her to a hook.

As the metal pierces her flesh, the exit gates power on. 

The Hillbilly doesn’t go towards them. He stands there, directly in front of Meg, revving his chainsaw. He wants at least one sacrifice. Meg doesn’t bother trying to escape. She just hangs there, groaning in agony as she bleeds.

She’s in too much pain to notice the movement out of the corner of her eye. The Hillbilly turns, revving his chainsaw menacingly. He seems torn about whether to stay put or chase. A flashlight clicks. Meg turns her head. Nea is standing closeby, underneath a pallet, crouching and taunting the Hillbilly. The dread starts to set in. Meg’s been on the hook while Nea looped the killer directly around her before. She’s died because of it. That’s apparently what she gets for patching Nea up earlier.

Nea points at the Hillbilly, motions for him to come with her. She clicks the flashlight incessantly. It apparently gets to him. He holds his chainsaw in the air and starts running. Nea drops the pallet directly onto his head and sprints away. Into a dead zone, instead of into the boat. 

Huh.

There are hands under Meg’s shoulders. Jake is lifting her off the hook. He motions for her to follow. She hobbles towards the gate. Ace tugs the handle down and opens it when they’re in his line of sight.

There’s a scream behind them. Meg looks over her shoulder as she approaches the exit threshold. Just in time to hear another shriek and see the spidery legs of the entity descending to collect their sacrifice.

Nea was on her last hook and still taunted the killer to save Meg. 

The chainsaw revs again. She, Jake and Ace rush out. Meg’s head is spinning. Ace wraps an arm around her and helps her back to the fire. Once they’re close, his hand slips down and squeezes her ass. Meg swats at him before slumping down onto a log. 

She waits, breathing a bit too quickly, staring at the sky. Waiting. She doesn’t know how long exactly it takes for Nea to materialize. It seems like a very long time. Maybe the Entity isn’t used to stitching Nea back together. After all, she hardly ever dies.

Eventually the spider legs appear, lowering Nea to the ground at Meg’s feet. Nea doesn’t move right away. She takes a few shaky breaths, but stays prone. Dwight and Claudette look on with wide eyes when Nea eventually drags herself to a seated position. 

“That is horrible.” Nea wrinkles her nose. Her voice is a bit hoarse. 

Meg doesn’t know what to say. She has to say something.

“Thank you--for uh--distracting him.”

Nea waves her hand. “I felt like annoying him.”

“Still.”

“Shut up.” Nea stands on shaky legs and stalks off. Everyone is silent for a few beats.

“She really did pull the Hillbilly away so I could save Meg.” Jake offers. “It was weird.”

“Maybe she’s got a heart after all,” Ace laughs.

***

Nea seems to be avoiding the campfire. Meg might low key go looking for her in the woods, but can’t find her. It figures Nea would get embarrassed about being helpful for once. Meg is reading into it hard. Like. Maybe Nea cares about her or something. 

David and Dwight are missing at the same time a lot since the night everybody got drunk. So when Meg gets bored, she lets Ace lead her off to the river. After she tells him to shut his mouth enough times, he gets the message. The orgasms are still barely satisfying. Better than nothing.

After like, seven trials have passed, Meg can’t help herself.

“Has literally anybody seen Nea?” 

They all seem to be on a break. Most everyone is gathered around the fire. Jake and Claudette are sitting pretty close together. As are Dwight and David. Meg has put Laurie in between her and Ace as a buffer. Feng is off somewhere by herself. The entity gave her a comic book. So she’s been reading a lot.

“She was in my last trial.” Claudette offers. “I only ran across her once, though. She was just doing generators.”

“Same.” Dwight nods. “I’ve seen her a few times. But not outside trials.”

“It’s fucking weird.” Meg sighs. “Like. Dying must have freaked her out, I guess.”

Jake chews on his lip. “She made a tent.”

“What?” Meg snaps her head in his direction.

“She asked for my help. She made a tent out in the woods with other people’s clothes.”

“Can you show me where it is?” It’s impulsive. Also super obvious, asking in front of everybody. Meg’s just. Frustrated.

Jake is quiet for a minute. “I told her I wouldn’t.”

“C’mon, man. It’s for her mental health. It can’t be good for her to just sit out there by herself forever. Even you come back sometimes.”

  
“Why’re we concerned for Nea’s wellbeing all the fockin’ sudden?” David snorts.

Dwight nudges him. “We’re all in this together.”

“She sure don’t bloody act like it.”

Dwight and David begin to bicker. Meg just keeps looking at Jake. Trying to give him her very best puppy eyes. Eventually he sighs and stands up, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just starts to walk. Meg gets up immediately and follows him.

They don’t really talk. Meg wants to ask about Claudette and if they’re hooking up, but after a few failed attempts at simpler questions met with grunts, she gives up. Jake leads her pretty far out until Meg sees a small fire flickering in the distance.

Jake gestures towards the light. Then he promptly turns around and walks away. Meg takes a few deep breaths. She squares her shoulders. She makes a point to step on a few twigs to alert Nea to her presence. It’d be a dick move to sneak up on her. 

She enters a small clearing. There is indeed a tent, set up with thick branches and cobbled together clothing. Nea is sitting in the mouth of it, staring into her small fire, holding a bottle of clear liquid. Damn. She must have stolen more booze from the MacMillan estate. 

Nea looks up at Meg with slightly glassy eyes.

“How you find me?” Her speech drags a bit. She doesn’t seem happy.

“I was just going for a walk. I saw the light.” Meg shifts back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Why are you all the way out here?”

“Not your business.”

“It kind of is. Everyone’s worried about you.”

“Lying. You stalk me.”

“I am not stalking you. I don’t understand why you’re being such a bitch.”

_ “Jag hatar dig.” _ Nea takes another swig from the bottle.  _ “Dum söt tjej.” _

“OK. No idea what you’re saying but it sounds mean.” Meg crosses her arms. This isn’t going very well. Maybe she should come back when Nea’s not drunk.

Nea huffs. She turns away, gazing into the middle distance. Meg stands there awkwardly. The silence presses in on them. No sound but the crackling wood.

“Can I like. Sit down?”

Nea shrugs in response. So Meg plops down on the dirt. She crosses her legs. The warmth of the fire is kind of nice. The forest is always misty and a little cold. 

“Why are you being so weird?” Meg finally sighs. 

_ “Sluta prata.” _ Nea waves the bottle. “You can’t be quiet, you leave.”

“Did you just call me a slut?”

Nea blinks. “No. I say stop your talking,”

“I mean. I am a slut.” Meg shrugs. “I’m not offended.”

“Yes.” Nea takes another swig. “Letting dirty old man touch you. Horrible to think about.”

“Hey. That’s not nice.”

“You let all the men touch you.”

“I mean, not  _ all  _ of them. I dunno. I’m just bored.”

Nea snorts. “Everyone bored. I don’t let everyone sex me.”

“You don’t let anyone ‘sex you’.”

“I do not want the dirty men.”

“Because they’re dirty, or because they’re men?” Meg swallows hard. Nea’s drunk. Belligerent. She’s lost some grasp of the English language. Now is probably not the time. But when will be?

Nea takes a few deep breaths. She’s frowning, almost baring her teeth. “Fine. I am the lesbian. Make fun. Nea the  _ dyke _ . Everyone have a big laugh.”

Meg’s mouth is dry. Her heart rate ticks up. 

“I come to America and people all horrible. Nobody like me. Say I am strange and wrong.” She takes another swig.  _ “Du är vacker. Det finns så många vackra tjejer. Alla tjejer hatar mig--” _

“Nea. I don’t think it’s funny.” Meg cuts in.

Nea seems taken aback. She’s holding the bottle halfway to her mouth. Caught in the headlights.

“I like girls, too.”

“You  _ yoke _ .” Nea’s brow furrows. 

“I’m not joking. I’m bi.   
  


Nea is quiet. She takes a few more sips before holding the bottle out to Meg. Meg takes it. Downs probably a bad amount of it. The liquor burns her tongue and throat. She feels it all the way down into her stomach.

Meg never minds fucking when she’s wasted. But she’s also not usually the one making the first move. She’s used to being chased, not doing the chasing. It seems wrong to try anything when Nea might be blacked out or something. 

They keep drinking. Meg’s flushed from more than the alcohol. The blood has pooled between her legs. She’s wet and aching. 

“Sorry.” Nea says out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Should save you more.” Nea rubs her hands across her face. “Dying hurts.”

“Yeah. It does.”

“World is spin. I need to sleep.”

Nea crawls back into her tent. She lies down on a spread out jacket with a bundled shirt as a pillow. Meg doesn’t want to walk all the way back to the main campfire. It’s impulsive. But she moves towards the tent as well. It’s not big. But there’s enough space she could fit.

“Um… can I sleep here too? I’m honestly pretty fucked up. I don’t wanna get lost trying to go back to the others.”

Nea just kind of grunts. It’s not a no. So Meg slides in beside her. 

Nea’s laying on her side, turned away. Meg lays on her back. She’s hot all over. She probably had a little too much. Enough that sleep comes easy. 

***

Meg wakes up pressed against a warm body. There’s an arm draped around her waist. Breath on her neck. Overnight she shifted onto her side. Nea is behind her, spooning her. Probably still out cold. 

The sudden rush of emotion is a smack to the face. It’s been so long since Meg woke up next to someone. So long since someone held her. She doesn’t like to cuddle with men. They’re hairy, unwieldy, usually sweaty. She feels trapped when they try to curl around her. But this. This is soft. It’s perfect. Nea’s her same height. Their bodies fit together just right. Meg almost wants to cry, which is super extra. If she got her period in this place, she’d check her panties for a red stain. 

Meg stays as still as she can. Almost afraid to breathe. She wants this to last as long as possible. When Nea wakes up, she’s probably gonna freak out and be all weird about it. Will she remember Meg coming out to her? God.

It’s a disappointingly short amount of time before Nea stirs. But instead of pulling away, she tightens her arm around Meg. She shifts. Almost nuzzling against Meg’s neck. It’s incredible. Meg’s breath catches. Her heart thuds in her throat.

Then Nea stiffens. She rolls away suddenly. She sits up. Puts as much distance as possible between them in the confined space. She says something under her breath that sounds like a swear. Meg could pretend to still be asleep. Avoid any sort of awkward encounter.

Fuck it.

Meg rolls onto her back and looks up at Nea. “Hi.” 

“Hello.” Nea’s still tense. Hackles raised. Seemingly ready to bolt.

“Come back here.” Meg spreads her arms, like she’s asking for a hug.

There’s a horribly long pause. Rejection seems imminent. Meg lets her arms fall and tries to steel herself for it.

Nea moves. Cautious. She lies back down. She lets Meg crowd against her, drape an arm around her. They’re nose to nose. The silence is unbearable.

Meg knows she’ll have to be the one to do it. For all her bravado, and general prickly demeanour, Nea seems nervous. Vulnerable. Fuck. What if it’s her first time? What if she’s never even kissed anybody? Meg still doesn’t really know much about Nea. The wall Nea lives behind is tall with spikes on top. But maybe, just maybe she’ll let Meg in. 

You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, or something.

Meg closes the distance. Their lips brush together. For a moment, Nea doesn’t respond. Then the switch flips. Nea is ravenous. She rolls Meg onto her back and straddles her waist. She grabs Meg’s wrists and pins them above her head. She licks into Meg’s mouth, nips at her lips. Meg’s dizzy. Nea is  _ definitely _ not a virgin.

“Stay.” Nea’s voice is low and raspy. She lets go of Meg’s wrists.

Then she gets her hands under Meg’s Corvids jersey and pushes it up past her tits. She rucks up Meg’s sports bra. Immediately goes for Meg’s nipples. Pinching both of them just a little too hard, making Meg moan into her mouth. 

Nea rakes her blunt nails down Meg’s abdomen, digging into the layer of soft flesh that stretches over her muscles. She shifts, moving to sit between Meg’s spread thighs. Then she tucks her fingers under the waistband of Meg’s leggings and tugs them down along with her panties.

She doesn’t take them off all the way. She gets them down to Meg’s knees. Then she grabs the fabric stretched between Meg’s legs like a handle. She pushes it upwards, forcing Meg to fold in half, exposing her glistening wet pussy.

Nea bites her lip. She traces a finger gently between Meg’s folds, avoiding her clit. Meg’s panting. Throbbing with need. She wants Nea inside her. She wants it  _ bad. _

“I’ve thought of this often.” Nea barely dips her index finger into Meg’s wet heat before withdrawing it again. “Ruining you for anyone else.”

“That’s pretty big talk.” Meg’s voice is breathier than she’d like. But she’s not going to admit that Nea’s basically knocked her flat when they’ve barely started. 

Nea presses her finger in slightly further, gathering slick before tracing it upward, brushing against Meg’s clit. Meg has to bite back the whimper.

“I want to make you come so hard it hurts.” Nea raises an eyebrow. “Then I will keep going.”

“Well then. Get on with it.”

Nea smiles a little. She traces slow, soft circles around Meg’s clit. The teasing pressure is horrible. Meg squirms, trying to get more contact. Nea pulls back and slaps her thigh.

“Stay still.”

Meg falls limp. Probably a little too compliant. She should be embarrassed. But she likes to feel used. Helpless. At least in this context. It gets her incredibly worked up.

Nea slides a finger into her, slowly starts to move it. She presses her thumb against Meg’s clit and rubs it. Meg can already feel her thighs tensing. She’s flushed all over. It feels so fucking good. Being held down and touched like this. 

The pleasure is just beginning to crest when Nea stops. Meg whines. 

“What the fuck, I was close--”

“I know.”

Meg blinks.

Nea smiles.

The torment begins. Two fingers pressed inside Meg, curled just right to hit the hot spot. A thumb on her clit, teasing her in a horrible pattern. Slow. Too fast. Just right. Slow. Stop. Meg’s surfing the edge, muscles pulsing, aching for a release that won’t come. 

Nea pauses and withdraws her fingers just as Meg’s starting to lose it. She grabs Meg’s shoes, tugs them off along with Meg’s leggings and panties. Nea shifts and bends down to get her face between Meg’s thighs. She licks. Slides her fingers back in. So achingly slow. She barely rubs her tongue across Meg’s clit. The feather light stimulation is worse than nothing at all.

“C’mon.” Meg reaches down to knock the stupid beanie off Nea’s head. She tries to thread her fingers into Nea’s hair, pull her closer.

Nea immediately sits up. She grabs Meg’s wrists and pins them down above her head once again. Nea is  _ strong. _ Her biceps may not be bulky, but they’re all muscle. Meg knows her eyes are blown wide. She can’t suppress the shudder.

“I tell you to stay still.” Nea slots her jean-clad thigh between Meg’s legs. The fabric is rough against Meg’s oversensitizes flesh. She loves it. She wants so badly to get herself off, humping Nea’s leg like a puppy.

Meg’s still deciding if she has more dignity in that when Nea lets go of one of her wrists to wrap a hand around Meg’s throat instead. She squeezes, not too tight. It’s a casual threat. The kind that makes Meg’s blood run about ten degrees too hot.

“If you behave, I will take care of you. If not, I stop. Understand?”

“Yes.” Meg gulps.

“Good girl.”

Nea settles between Meg’s thighs again. She curls a hand under Meg’s ass, squeezing it. She slides her fingers back in. She kisses Meg’s clit slow and sloppy. Meg has to dig her nails into her palms to keep from trying to grind on Nea’s face. She isn’t sure how long her patience will hold out. It’s never been her strong suit. 

But she tries. She wants to be. Good. Or something. She’s a tangled mess of emotions and hormones. She bites her lip almost bloody as Nea picks up a gradual rhythm. It shouldn’t be anywhere near enough stimulation to get her off. Nea’s still barely licking her clit, moving her fingers languidly, like they’ve got all the time in the world. But Meg’s so keyed up. The gentle friction quickly becomes overwhelming. 

She barely has time to squeak out, “ _ fuck, I’m gonna...” _

Her hips buck, her pussy snaps around Nea’s fingers so hard Meg can’t breathe. Her whole body jerks with it.

She hears Nea snort. She doesn’t so much as pause. She keeps fucking Meg with her fingers. Faster now. Harder. She licks messy, her spit mingling with Meg’s slick. Now that Nea’s not teasing, Meg’s quick. It’s maybe a minute before she’s coming again. Gushing a little. Nea hums. She licks it up. Doesn’t stop her relentless rhythm. It’s overwhelming. Meg’s legs are twitching. The aftershocks bleed into a fresh orgasm. Her brain is mush. She might be screaming.

Nea’s two fingers are better than any dick Meg’s ever had. Her smooth lips and quick tongue are more than enough to make Meg see stars. She’s trembling all over. Her body keeps trying to shrink away from the onslaught of sensation. But Nea has grabbed Meg’s hip and is holding her down quite forcefully. So Meg’s legs spasm. She makes embarrassing noises. Nea makes her squirt again. The ground underneath them is going to be a puddle soon enough.

“Oh--oh my god--I can’t--” Meg isn’t sure how to use words at this point. Her clit is starting to feel a little cold, despite the immense heat. The neural wires have gotten confused. Everything is too much. But the more Nea touches her, the more she keeps coming. It does hurt. She doesn’t want it to stop.

It’s different from the pain of being fucked without enough lube, or being slapped, or choked, or any of the other shit Meg’s into. It’s kind of like running past the point where your legs are starting to wobble and give out. Like running until literal collapse and then crawling across the finish line. It’s a high like nothing else. 

She definitely shrieks as her body spasms once again. She might say Nea’s name. She definitely kind of whites out for a second. 

Then horribly, mercifully, Nea sits back. She withdraws her fingers slowly and wipes her mouth off on the back of her arm. Her chin is still covered in slick. Her hair is a mess from her beanie sliding off. Her face is flushed. And god she looks  _ smug _ .

“Well?” She runs her legs up Meg’s still twitching thighs. “Did I ruin you?”

“M-maybe just… like… a little.”

She reaches for her hat and puts it back on. Then she lies down next to Meg, pulling her into a loose embrace. The sweat is starting to cool on Meg’s skin. She’s a little cold in the forest air without most of her clothes on. She has no idea where Nea tossed her leggings though. At the very least she tugs her sports bra and shirt back down. They’re not comfortable to lie on all bunched up.

“So. You are pillow princess?” Nea presses a kiss to the edge of Meg’s mouth, still sounding entirely too pleased with herself.

“Listen… I don’t have bones right now. But give me a minute and I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.”

“Mmm. Big talk.”

Meg tilts her head enough to press a real kiss against Nea’s lips. She tastes salty. Musky. Like Meg’s jizz. It’s pretty goddamn hot. 

Of course, because life is terrible, the fog rolls in right at that moment. Nea begins to fade away in its clutches.

“Fuck!” Meg groans. “Get back here quick, OK?”

Nea just smirks as she disappears.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Crockpot" by Slothrust. Yes I've ripped their lyrics for more than one title. It's fine.


End file.
